Hope and Melancholy
by SnowyNeko
Summary: Ichimokuren gets a visit from an old friend. (hints of SusaRen)


The quiet was broken only by the occasional clack of a single pair of geta, when the wood met stone. The old road had long been invaded by dirt. Sprouts littered the path, moss coating the gray lamps in a muted green. The temple, once sturdy and full of life, now sat with its skeleton scattered amid the trees, only one lone pillar barely holding out against the ruin. Everything the place once was was gone. Still, whenever his geta would meet one of the remaining stones, Ichimokuren found peace in the sound. Everything was gone, but that did nothing to the fact that everything once was.

The former god sat on one of the crumbling stairs and closed his eye. Like this, he could see the temple alive again; the lamps alight, the structure grand, if only he could banish the silence from his ears.

In the quiet, he was able to hear a step of unearthly softness. He opened his eye, and lifted his head.

"I came expecting to find this place empty. I suppose there is no need for me to pay my respects."

Ichimokuren stood, his aura dragon resting its head on his shoulder. "Your intentions are appreciated, Master Susabi."

"I see." The dark haired man moved closer and sat beside the spirit, prompting him to lower himself back onto the step, as well. "An onmyoji has marked you. Tell me, was it Seimei?"

"It was. I didn't wish for my life to be prolonged, but he defeated me in battle, and forced me to accept his power. Do you know him, Master Susabi?"

"Indeed. He is a great pawn in the tides of fate."

The spirit laughed softly. "I am not surprised. It seemed to me he's a man that will go to great lengths to do what he believes is right. I do not mind being marked by such an onmyoji. Master Susabi, while you are here, you must tell me of the things you've seen since your last visit. How have the other gods been faring? And tell me more about this Seimei."

"I will. However, it may have to wait. I sense a soul coming this way."

Susabi watched as the former god sat straight, eager, gem-like eyes scanning the ruins as he mused, "A traveller, perhaps?"

"Perhaps." He knew, though, that none passed by Ichimokuren's temple out of chance. The desolate village was far from any path as it was, the temple even more obscure. But there was no harm, he thought, in letting the spirit have a bit of hope. At the very least, he would be loathed to crush the expression hope put on the man's face. There were enough things in the world that would do so without remorse.

That expression melted away, though, when the soul he sensed came into view. It was a human, a young one, somewhere between childhood and adulthood, and the boy all but fell onto the overgrown path before the temple. Ichimokuren was quickly on his feet and at the boy's side. As he knelt there, he could see the tatters the boy's clothes had become, and the blood seeping into the dirt where the boy laid gasping. Heart aching, Ichimokuren extended a hand to rest on the boy's brown hair. The child did not react.

Susabi took in the spirit's reaction, silent until a frown began to pull at Ichimokuren's stoic facade. "What do you plan to do?"

"I will nurse him."

"That human is on the verge of death, and you are merely a spirit. Even if you nurse him, it is likely he will die."

"I am aware. Koroka! Mushishi!"

A few seconds later, a small spirit with a pinwheel in hand and a larger moth spirit appeared, each out of breath.

"Wha...What is it, Master Ichimokuren?"

"I-Is that a human? Is he okay?"

"Go out to human towns and try to find out how humans nurse each other. If supplies are necessary, do your best to acquire them, but do _not_ steal. Do you understand me, Koroka?"

"Yes! Come on, let's go, Mushishi!"

The two rushed off, and Ichimokuren returned his attention to the dying boy. He'd received wishes for healing before, but they were never his strong suit. He controlled the wind. Controlling anything else was taxing.

A deep sigh drew his attention back to Susabi, who stood and came to stand beside the boy. "If you wish for him to live, you first need to stop the bleeding."

Although the child was riddled with scratches, those were not the cause of the pooling red. With great delicacy, Ichimokuren drew up wind beneath the boy, cushioning him with an opposing air pressure as he turned the young man over. A deep gash ran from the boy's shoulder down his chest, scraps of fabric sticking in the wound. Ichimokuren was about to pressurize the injury when Susabi stopped him, telling him to remove the cloth first. He did so, then pushed the wind against the wound. Then he looked back up at the god, waiting.

"Next you will want to clean it. However, we have no medicine to do so with. You will have to wait until Koroka and Mushishi return."

The ruins were quiet. They were always quiet, but the noiselessness held a new weight as sweat ran down the human boy's pale face. His coloration was as white and wispy as a cloud. Ichimokuren had seen such a face before. It was the face of the villagers that had come to him begging him to stop the flood.

Begging him to save their lives.

The bleeding was held at bay, but the boy never once came to while they waited for the two spirits to return.

They returned empty handed, having been unable to find out anything.

"Thank you for trying."

"But Master—"

"You did what you could, Mushishi. I will find away to save him, even without help."

Susabi did not particularly care for the human. He found it sad, yes, that the child was so close to adulthood, and yet was at death's door, but such was fate. Some were bound not to make it. But Ichimokuren never liked that. He had given up an eye, his power, and nearly his life to change fate in the past. He had lost everything, and yet he still tried to save this human. He hesitated to interfere, but he didn't want Ichimokuren's efforts to be in vain.

"You may not be able to clean it, but you can use what's left of his shirt to bind the cut."

Ichimokuren wasted no time. Mushishi pitched in her help, and with the wind and the moths working together, and Susabi's concise instruction, the cloth was made into strips, and the moths tied them around the worst of the wound.

When Ichimokuren once again looked to Susabi for directions, the god simply said, "From here on, it is up to his will to live."

And so the waiting began. Mushishi brought water, but the unconscious boy couldn't drink, so she left it beside him. She didn't stay long, overwhelmed with worry, and she quickly flitted off with Koroka on her tail. Ichimokuren lingered at the boy's side, running a comforting hand over the boy's hair. Susabi watched on from the dilapidated steps.

The sun set, and the stars emerged, but the three in the ruins sat motionless. The boy still breathed, but Ichimokuren hoped he would wake soon. Only then could he feel certain that the boy would live.

In the light of the moon, for those they were visible to, the spirit and god looked like statues bathed in silver. Two points of the temple that time had left untouched. But perhaps a more fitting image would be ghosts. A god and a spirit, but ghosts nonetheless. Susabi's eyes lowered to the step below him. The two of them were remnants just as much as the ruins. The boy seemed to be, too. That wound was not the claw mark of a demon, but a slice made by a human blade. Bandits, maybe, or even just a cruel neighbor. Either way, the child had been betrayed by humanity, and had fled it with the last of his strength. If he lived, he would also be a scar of cruelty in the story of humanity. How desirable would he find it to live such a life?

Susabi blinked when Ichimokuren moved, returning to sit beside him. He nearly asked if the human had died, except that he found he could still sense the boy's soul.

"What is it you're thinking about?" the spirit suddenly wondered, resting his elbows on his knees and crossing his arms. Susabi took a moment before responding.

"The boy will be similar to us, if he lives."

Ichimokuren turned his head so his hair didn't block his view of Susabi. "Us?"

"A long time ago, I was also abandoned by humanity. They demanded more from me than I could give them, and when I failed to deliver, they punished me. They...cast me out."

He didn't say it, but Ichimokuren could tell Susabi didn't mean simply exile. Whatever it was, he didn't want to share it. That was fine. It made him glad that Susabi decided to tell him as much as he did. He turned to look back at the human boy lying on the path. "He might be like us, but he might also not be. He is young. He might have a family, and if he regains his strength, he could surely find a job. He might still have a place among the many."

"Even so, his innocence is gone. He has felt the fear of death. He has run out to this place all alone, in pain and afraid. He has felt the burden of being forsaken by fate."

A gentle smile pulled at Ichimokuren's lips. "He might have a family, but even if he does not, he could also have a friend, or a lover. So long as there is one person in the world who loves you, Master Susabi, one is never truly forsaken."

Susabi took those words to ponder, and Ichimokuren let the silence return. Once again, it was a different silence, distinguishable from the usual frozen quietude of the ruins. It was different, also, from the tense, anxious quiet that had clogged the air as they waited for Koroka and Mushishi to return. This silence was light, and gave Ichimokuren the same peace as the sound of his geta against the stone road.

The onset of morning was accompanied by the stirring of the boy. Immediately Ichimokuren rushed to his side, small groans of pain pushed from the boy's throat as he began to come to. Relief washed over Ichimokuren as the boy's eyelids began to flutter. They then clenched shut, the boy hissing in pain, before he fought to open his eyes against the first rays of day. He sat there, staring at the pink, orange, and green sky, completely oblivious to the compassionate spirit kneeling over him and stroking his hair. A slight breeze rustled the trees, an unintentional gust that escaped the spirit in his delight. Then the boy slowly moved his arm to touch his chest, teeth clenching as his fingers grazed the makeshift bandages. After a couple of breaths, he ran his hand across them, breath hitching every time he hit one of the small exposed patches. Then, ever so carefully, the boy gradually drew himself into a sitting position. He took in a few more even breaths, adjusting to the pain, before looking around. Even as the boy looked right through him, Ichimokuren was too joyful to care. The boy then spotted the chipped bowl of water beside him. He stared at it, then reached out with his good arm to pick it up. He drank thirstily, and Ichimokuren flashed Susabi a delighted grin. The boy lowered the bowl from his lips.

"The rumors were true." The boy's voice was rough. His lips cracked at the words, and he quickly licked them. "There really is a kind god here."

Ichimokuren's smile turned to shock, and Susabi raised a brow.

"There's no one around. There hasn't been for ages. How—"

"Your good deeds have kept your reputation alive, I suppose. Even if they left to avoid another flood, the humans you saved must have never forgotten you. They must have told stories."

The boy suddenly pressed his palms together in front of him, bowing his head. "Oh god of this shrine, thank you for saving me. When I am well, I will be sure to return with tons of offerings! I owe you my life!"

From then on the boy would talk. He told them how he had been traveling to the other side of the mountain to get a special pin for a girl he was wooing, and how he had run into a passing samurai. Apparently he had not shown enough respect, and infuriated the samurai, who sent his servants after him. The boy explained how he was obviously caught once, but managed to get away, only to realize he was lost. He knew where the abandoned village was said to be, though, so he assured them he could get home. After sharing his story, he went on to talk about a rival he faced in wooing the girl, and laughed at how fond the girl was of his little sister. He had no way of knowing that Ichimokuren was listening intently to his every word, but Susabi couldn't help but feel it seemed he did, with the way he continued to talk so adamantly.

When the boy was finally well enough to walk a few days later, he once again thanked the god of the temple, and promised to return before starting out back home. Ichimokuren summoned Koroka, and asked him to make sure the boy made it back safely. And then it was quiet again.

"I will also be on my way," Susabi said, standing.

"What of the stories you promised to share with me, Master Susabi?"

"I will share them with you next time. Both of us have just heard many stories. If I share mine as well, we might very well end up like Aoandon."

The spirit bowed his head, and the god started down the ruined road. The god paused, however, and turned back to face Ichimokuren.

"What is it, Master Susabi?"

A smile made its way onto Susabi's lips, and it was by far the gentlest Ichimokuren had ever seen the man look. "I am glad you didn't vanish, Ren."

The spirit grinned. "I am, too."

* * *

This work was written for the Onmyoji Official Discord Server Fanfiction Contest. Please join the server at discord .gg /onmyoji to enter the contest and read more amazing entries!

2,495/5,000 words


End file.
